


All I Need

by hazelNuts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aromantic Derek, Hurt Derek, Hurt/Comfort, Lithromantic Stiles, M/M, Mentioned Canon-Typical Violence, POV Stiles, Trans Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5971582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles takes care of Derek when Derek gets hurt in a fight with rotten potatoes on legs (aka brownies).</p><p>
  <i>‘You know you’re not indestructible, right? You can’t keep playing human shield,’ he glares at Derek. It’s more worry than actual anger. There’s a tear in the werewolf’s side and blood is flowing freely. He bends closer to inspect the wound, groaning when he sees it’s a bite. Brownie venom doesn’t kill werewolves, but it’ll slow the healing process significantly. </i>
  <br/>
  <i>‘Yeah, but if you die I won’t have anyone to watch Once Upon a Time with,’ Derek snarks back.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>‘That the only reason you keeping me alive?’ Stiles chuckles in relief.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spitshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spitshine/gifts).



> I hope you like it! -your ace/aro/trans V-Day exchange gift maker (which is a very long thing to say and I probably should've come up with something shorter)

Stiles kicks the dead brownie off Derek. He hates brownies, and not just because they’re basically dog-sized rotten potatoes on legs. They’re bad enough when still in service of higher faeries, but without a leader they become mindless machines of destruction, like lawnmowers without someone to steer them. This particular brownie had tried to get to Stiles.

‘You know you’re not indestructible, right? You can’t keep playing human shield,’ he glares at Derek. It’s more worry than actual anger. There’s a tear in the werewolf’s side and blood is flowing freely. He bends closer to inspect the wound, groaning when he sees it’s a bite. Brownie venom doesn’t kill werewolves, but it’ll slow the healing process significantly.

‘Yeah, but if you die I won’t have anyone to watch Once Upon a Time with,’ Derek snarks back.

‘That the only reason you keeping me alive?’ Stiles chuckles in relief.

‘Well, that and the sex.’

Stiles helps Derek up, squeezing his hand when Derek groans in pain. ‘The sex is pretty fantastic.’

Scott drives them back to the pack house, while Stiles makes sure that Derek doesn’t pass out from blood loss in the backseat. The wound does appear to be healing, which means not a lot of venom made it into Derek’s blood stream. Stiles can see Scott throwing glances at them in the rear-view mirror and has to point out that Scott’s eyes should really stay on the road.

The pack house isn’t really the pack’s house. It simply became the place they all gathered before and after fights because it has the most bathrooms, and it’s the only home where the living room is big enough for all of them to fit comfortably during pack nights. The place is actually Jackson’s, who still grumbles about even though they all know he doesn’t mind.

They’re the first to arrive, Jackson and Allison a couple minutes behind them because Jackson tore open his leg, and the rest stayed behind to clean the scene. Stiles doesn’t envy them, the smell of burning brownies is worse than live ones.

He and Scott help Derek out of the car, to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom and lower him to sit on the toilet lid. Scott leaves them with a warning to not get blood everywhere then goes back downstairs to help Allison with Jackson.

Stiles pulls open the cabinet by the sink for a towel and hands it to Derek. ‘Keep that on there. I’m going to get the wolf-aid kit. Do _not_ move till I get back,’ Stiles tells Derek, pinning him with a glare, but softening it by dragging his fingers through Derek’s hair.

Derek rolls his eyes in answer, but presses the towel to the wound.

Stiles races to the kitchen to get the kit. They used to keep it in the bathrooms at first, but they’d realized the flaw in that plan very soon when Jackson was taken a shower and they needed the wolfsbane they kept in there.

‘Hey, Stiles,’ Scott stopped him. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’ Stiles pull open the first cupboard, but the kit isn’t there. Damnit. He pulls open the next. ‘What’s up?’

‘Are you in love with Derek?’

‘Ha!’ Stiles holds the kit up triumphantly, then grumbles when he realizes it’s the normal first-aid kit. He turns to Scott. ‘Damnit. Yeah. Why?’

‘It’s just, you know he’s aro, right?’ Scott looks worried. ‘I don’t want you two get hurt.’

‘No need to worry, okay? I don’t need him to be in love with me. I don’t even want him to. Where’s the wolf kit?’

‘Living room,’ Scott answers, looking confused.

‘It’s called lithromantic.’

Stiles walks to the living room where Allison is treating Jackson. He grabs what he needs and turns back to Scott, who doesn’t look any less confused.

‘And that’s you?’

Stiles nods and a smile breaks through the worry on Scott’s face.

‘So you’re happy?’

‘Yes, so no threatening Derek, because he’s not my boyfriend.’

Scott claps him on the shoulder, still looking a little confused, but satisfied his friends are happy, and Stiles runs back up the stairs. When Stiles gets back to the bathroom, he sighs.

‘I told you not to move.’

Derek has pulled off his shirt, which made the blood flow a little faster, because he’s pressing a new towel against the wound.

‘It smelled,’ he says, nodding at where his shirt is lying on the floor.

Stiles can’t blame him for that. Brownie venom stinks worse than the creatures themselves, and it only gets worse as it dries up. He throws Derek’s shirt in the trash, followed by his own. He’s pretty sure his jeans escaped the venom. Derek’s eyes track hungrily down Stiles’ chest.

‘No,’ Stiles says. ‘No sex for you, mister. Not until that wound is healed.’

He efficiently cleans the wound and the skin around it, then he threats a needle to sow the worst of it shut. He’s done in a couple minutes. Then leans back to check out his handiwork.

‘Looks good,’ Derek says and pulls Stiles closer by his belt loops. ‘That deserves a reward.’

Heat pooling low in Stiles’ stomach, but he slaps Derek’s hands away.

‘There’s dirt, blood, and brownie ick all over us. Your hands are not coming near, and definitely not _in_ me.’ He smirks and unbuttons his jeans. ‘We should clean all that off.’

‘I thought I wasn’t going to have sex?’ Derek stands up and drags his nails down Stiles’ chest, careful with the scars just below his pecks. They’re still a little sensitive.

‘Not in my house you’re not!’ Jackson yells from the living room. ‘I will throw your naked asses out!’

Stiles quickly tapes a bandage over the stitches, then grabs Derek’s arm and pulls him out of the bathroom. ‘I changed my mind.’

Walking around without a shirt is still a little strange. Stiles had mostly gotten the surgery because changing out of his binder and into a sports bra before every fight was too much of a bother. Not to mention that he kept forgetting and almost past out because of it a couple times. This was easier.

Stiles drives to Derek’s place as quickly as he can without attracting the attention of any of the deputies. Once there, Stiles drags Derek up the stairs of the apartment complex. The adrenaline from the fight is still coursing through him, but he knows it won’t last much longer and he wants to get at least one orgasm in before he becomes a pile of exhaustion.

He kicks the apartment door shut behind them while trying to rid himself of his jeans at the same time. Derek catches him just before he brains himself on the side table next to the door.

‘Let me do that,’ Derek says, before pulling down Stiles’ jeans and boxers in one quick movement. Stiles steps out of them, then nearly jumps when Derek licks at his clit. It’s a quick touch, almost not there, but it’s enough to send fire coursing through Stiles’ veins.

‘You. Naked. Now,’ Stiles orders, before making his way to the bathroom. He starts the shower and is already scrubbing at the dirt on his skin when Derek joins him.

It’s a little tricky, with making sure Derek’s bandage doesn’t get wet, but they make it work. Clean, satisfied and exhausted they make it to the bedroom a little while later.

‘Is it okay if I stay?’ Stiles asks, yawning wide.

‘Friends don’t let friends drive exhausted,’ Derek says, patting the mattress beside him.

Stiles lies down and curls up, his head on Derek’s chest. He always finds listening to Derek’s heartbeat reassuring after a life and death situations.

‘Hey, Stiles?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I overheard your conversation with Scott.’

‘Okay?’ Stiles has no idea where this is going.

‘Will you promise to tell me if this stops being okay? If you need something… different?’

‘I promise, buddy,’ Stiles assures him, patting Derek’s chest and yawning again. They’re both still naked and they’ll probably wake up in a couple hours for another round of post-fight sex, but right now he just really needs some sleep.


End file.
